Chapter 30

30

PRESENT DAY

Blake walked down the Paris street, inhaling the sugared air outside a crepe stall and feeling as if she’d arrived home. She smiled to herself when she recognised one of her favourite patisseries, and found herself changing direction so she could go inside. There were only a few people ahead of her, and she ordered her pain au chocolat in her best French, sliding it from the paper bag the moment she set foot outside.

She stifled a groan of pleasure as her teeth sank into the flaky pastry. There was nothing in the world quite like an actual French patisserie. As she ate, she wandered slowly, admiring the fresh flowers in the shop next door, and strolling past a restaurant that was already filling up with people, despite it only being late morning. It was one of the things she loved most about the French—their ability to enjoy meals and the company of others, rather than staying chained to their desks. She was certain she’d even read once that it was illegal for French people to eat at their desk at work, but she hadn’t been sure if it was true or not. She wished Henri was beside her so she could ask him.

She took another bite and forced herself to eat it as slowly as possible. She also needed to savour it because she had to be more careful with her money. Deborah was happy for her to freelance, but she was still worried about how much work that would actually turn into, and besides, if she was going to live in Paris, she wanted to immerse herself in the world of fashion.

‘Blake?’

She paused mid-mouthful, lowering her croissant as she quickly dabbed at her mouth and tried to capture any pieces of flaky pastry.

Blake slowly turned and came face to face with the one man she’d been hoping to see. She had had no intention of telling him she was in the city, which she believed was perfectly normal for a girl who’d so recently had her heart broken, but part of her had secretly been wishing for a moment like this. But now that he was in front of her, she didn’t know what to do. He was wearing jeans and a white t-shirt beneath a tailored jacket, and he looked as effortlessly well-dressed as he did handsome, his bright blue eyes impossible to look away from.

‘Henri,’ she replied, still self-consciously brushing at her cheeks with her fingertips. ‘I, ah?—’

‘What a surprise to see you in Paris,’ Henri said.

‘I didn’t intend on coming back so soon, but here I am.’ She didn’t know what else to say, or whether he was just being polite even speaking to her.

It took a moment before either of them spoke, and as Henri looked away, Blake couldn’t help but notice he seemed a little shy.

‘Blake, I want you to know that I read your last two articles. They were brilliant. You write in a way that truly makes the reader feel as if they’re right there with you, on your shoulder.’

Blake smiled. The irony was that he had been right there with her through much of it. ‘Thank you. It’s been an interesting experience. I’ve never had so much contact with readers, or connected with so many people.’

‘Well, I’m only sorry I couldn’t track down who Evelina had the baby with. I did keep trying for some time after you left, as I know how much you wanted to discover that final piece of the puzzle.’

She looked at the ground before feeling brave enough to lift her gaze and meet his. ‘It’s fine. Honestly, after what happened, I didn’t expect you to keep helping me anyway. I wasn’t sure you wanted anything to do with me.’

‘Blake, I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m so sorry for what I said to you, and I should have said that before you left. I should have begged for your forgiveness, I can see that now.’

She smiled despite the upheaval she felt inside. ‘It was a summer romance, Henri. I shouldn’t have?—’

‘No,’ he said, shaking his head as he reached for her hand. ‘What we had was more than that, and I ruined it. The way things ended? It was all my fault.’

She let him hold her hand, unsure what to do next. She’d hoped to see him, but at the same time had hoped not to, and now that they were standing face to face, she suddenly had no idea what to say.

‘Would you come with me?’ Henri asked. ‘Please?’

Blake started walking and then stopped, letting go of his hand as she realised that he wasn’t nearly as surprised about seeing her as he should be. ‘Henri, it’s too much of a coincidence, us just seeing each other like this. I’ve only just arrived in Paris, and yet somehow we meet each other on the street.’

He looked away before glancing back at her, his eyes telling her that it wasn’t a coincidence at all.

‘Your sister called me.’

‘Abby?’ she gasped. ‘Abby called you?’ How embarrassing. She was going to kill her! How did her sister even know how to contact him?

‘She told me when you were coming back. Please don’t be angry with her, she wanted me to know in case I wanted to see you.’

Blake laughed. Of course Abby had called him. ‘And you knew I would come straight back to my favourite neighbourhood?—’

‘To your favourite patisserie,’ he finished for her, catching her hand again.

‘I’m sorry she called you,’ Blake whispered as Henri stepped closer to her, hesitantly lifting his hand and touching her face. He gently brushed the back of his knuckles across her skin, just by her mouth. ‘She had no right to interfere.’

‘I’m pleased she did,’ he whispered back.

‘I have pastry on my face, don’t I?’

He laughed. ‘Not anymore.’

And then it was Blake laughing; laughing and trying not to cry as Henri leaned in and pressed his forehead to hers.

‘I’ve missed you so much,’ he murmured. ‘More than you could ever imagine. I don’t even know how that’s possible, but I have.’

‘I’ve missed you, too.’

‘Then come with me, please,’ he said. ‘I have somewhere I need to take you.’

Blake nodded, forgetting all about her pain au chocolat as she pressed her palm to Henri’s and walked with him down the beautifully manicured street, her surroundings suddenly, comfortably familiar. When she was there last time, she’d fallen in love with the beautiful old buildings and cobbled streets, the thick green trees and bicycles left against walls, not to mention the cafés with little round tables spilling out onto the streets.

She glanced at Henri beside her and dropped her head to his shoulder, inhaling his citrus cologne as they strolled.

He feels like home, too .

‘Where are we going?’ she asked, after ten minutes of walking, not recognising the street they were on.

She’d expected him to take her for an early lunch, or to his apartment, but instead they were now in what appeared to be a business area, and he was walking them to the entrance of a three-storey building. She looked up, wondering if she was supposed to recognise it, and that was when she saw a very discreet plaque that read CéLINE TOUSSAINT.

‘This is where my family’s business is operated from,’ he said, before entering a code and opening the door for her, ushering her in ahead of him. ‘I wanted you to see it for yourself.’

Blake felt a familiar unease in her stomach when he mentioned his family business. He’d been very clear before she left that he didn’t want her to work with his mother.

‘I don’t know if this is the best idea. Last time?—’

‘Please,’ he said. ‘It’s important to me.’

Take every opportunity, Blake. Promise me you’ll make this the best year of your life . Her sister’s words echoed in her mind, words she’d said to her before Blake had boarded the plane, as Henri stood before her, holding out his hand to indicate that she should walk in front of him. And so she did, because she’d made a promise to her sister, and she had every intention of keeping it.

‘Blake!’ A familiar voice reached her as she stepped into a large, open-plan workplace. ‘Bienvenue!’

The walls were white, with exposed timber floorboards and glass desks, but the space came to life because of the clothes that were strewn absolutely everywhere—on racks, on the tops of desks, and dressed on mannequins.

That’s when she saw where the voice was coming from. Henri’s mother was striding across the room towards her, her arms open wide.

‘It’s so good to see you again,’ Céline said. ‘At last, you’re here to see how we work.’

‘It’s lovely to see you, too,’ she said, kissing Céline on both cheeks. The older woman held her arms and looked at her, really looked at her, and Blake smiled.

‘You came back to Paris. Does that mean you’re ready to take up my job offer?’ Céline laughed. ‘I waited, just in case you changed your mind.’

Blake glanced at Henri, who was standing with his hands in his pockets. He looked impossibly, effortlessly handsome.

‘I appreciate the gesture, Céline, I do, but I can’t take the position.’

His mother frowned. ‘You already have another internship?’

‘It’s because I asked her not to take the job, Maman,’ Henri said.

‘Non,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Henri, why would you do such a thing?’

Blake kept her head down, not wanting to say the wrong thing. This was between Henri and his mother, and she’d learnt her lesson about coming between them.

‘Blake, do you want the job?’ Céline asked, giving her son a pointed look before turning her attention to Blake.

‘I do, very much so, but I also respect your son’s wishes, and?—’

‘Take the job,’ Henri said, walking a few steps towards them. ‘Asking you to turn it down is one of my biggest regrets, Blake. Please, if you’d like to work here, then you have my blessing.’

Blake looked between them again, and could see that Henri truly meant what he was saying.

‘I would love the job,’ she said, giving a big sigh of relief. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever wanted something more than to work here, with someone who has so much experience in the industry.’

‘Well, it’s settled then,’ Céline said, taking her by the hand and appearing to dismiss her son. ‘Now come with me, I want you to see the new designs. The samples have just arrived for our next summer collection.’

She glanced over her shoulder at Henri, who was watching her with an amused expression on his face.

‘Henri, could you get us coffees?’

At that, Blake could barely contain her laughter. She was fairly sure the intern was supposed to get the coffees, but Céline was clearly trying to put her son in his place for interfering.

‘Henri is a wonderful, talented young man,’ Céline said, ‘and I know I’m biased because he’s my son. But don’t ever let him, or any other man, tell you what you can and can’t do, even if you love them. We have to take the opportunities life gives us, and that means not turning down jobs that are perfect for us.’

Blake nodded, even though she knew that she’d do the same thing all over again if faced with the same decision. She’d fallen hard for Henri, and the fact that he’d thought she’d used him to become close to his mother had horrified her.

‘Would you like to join us for dinner tonight?’ Céline asked, as she picked up the samples of fabric on the low table and indicated for Blake to sit with her. ‘And before you make an excuse, my son would love you to come. He’s talked of little else since you left.’

‘Well, then, I’d love to.’

‘Good. Now tell me what you see when you look at this fabric. Hold it up to the light and imagine the dress it could become.’

Blake did as she was told, and immediately she could see it. A flutter touched her stomach, and for the first time in a very long while, she suddenly ached to put pencil to paper and sketch.

‘I can see something from your capsule wardrobe,’ she said. ‘It’s perfect.’

And as Céline began to speak again, her eyes coming to life as she pushed fabrics around and showed her the designs on paper, Blake had the notion that she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

It wasn’t until Henri returned with their coffees and slid into the seat beside her that she even looked up.

‘You two make a good team,’ he said.

‘She has very good taste,’ his mother said, taking her coffee and inhaling it as if her life depended on it, much as Henri had the first time Blake had met him.

Henri seemed unfazed by the fact that his mother’s gaze was on them, because he immediately turned to her, stroking Blake’s hair and leaning in for a kiss. It was only a warm, momentary press of their lips together, but it was enough to make Blake wish that they were alone.

‘I think she has very, very good taste,’ he whispered, which made them all laugh.

‘Leave us, Henri,’ Céline said. ‘We can enjoy one another’s company later, but for now, we work.’

Blake loved working. Even when she’d been younger and money had been tight, she’d always found joy and pleasure in her job. But the day she’d just had with Céline had been like nothing she’d ever experienced before; it was as if her childhood dream had just come true.

‘I think Blake is a natural fit at Toussaint,’ Céline said, as they joined Henri and his stepfather Benoit at a restaurant near the office.

Both men stood, and as Céline went to Benoit, Blake went to Henri. She half expected him to kiss her lips in greeting, but instead he touched his palm to her waist and gave her a very slow kiss on each cheek, lingering on the last one. Blake caught her bottom lip between her teeth to stop from smiling, but it didn’t work.

‘Ahh, Blake,’ Benoit said, pushing his son out of the way and giving Blake a warm kiss to each cheek. ‘I heard you were back in Paris. Now our Henri can stop behaving like a sad puppy dog.’

They all laughed, even Henri, who was holding out a seat at the table for her.

‘Thank you,’ Blake said, as she sat, and she was pleased when he took the seat right beside hers.

‘We ordered champagne,’ Benoit said. ‘Blake, we are celebrating in your honour.’

She happily took the glass passed to her, clinking with the other three people at the table before taking a grateful sip.

‘You are staying with Henri?’ Benoit asked.

Blake glanced quickly at Henri, who looked as interested in the question as his stepfather was. ‘I actually checked into a hotel when I arrived. I wasn’t sure if Henri?—’

‘Mon dieu,’ Benoit muttered, reaching over and giving his son a pretend slap around the back of the head. ‘A beautiful woman like this returns to Paris, and you let her stay in a hotel?’

‘In fairness, I didn’t tell Henri I was coming.’

She exchanged glances with Céline, who seemed to be finding the conversation rather entertaining, given that she already knew the particulars of Blake’s situation. They’d had plenty of time to catch up earlier in the day, after all.

‘How about we discuss how fabulous Blake is to work with?’ Céline said, clearly sensing how uncomfortable she was with all the talk about where she was staying and why. ‘I am very happy she has decided to return.’

‘As am I,’ Henri said, giving his stepfather a frustrated yet comical expression before turning to her and taking her hand.

‘Now tell me, Blake, what makes you love fashion? Why does my wife think you’re so clever, when she has young women tripping over themselves to work with her?’

‘I think,’ Blake said, taking a little sip of her champagne as she considered her answer, ‘I think it’s because I’m not wanting to be part of the fashion world so that I can be an influencer, or use it as a stepping stone to something else. When I was a girl, designing was my only creative outlet, the one thing I had just for me, and I want to rediscover that feeling again and immerse myself in it.’

Henri’s thumb brushed her hand, as his parents whispered something to each other and smiled at them across the table. She had the sense that they were pleased to see their son so obviously happy.

‘I’m sorry I ever doubted you,’ Henri murmured, his words just for her. ‘But I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you if I have to.’

‘The rest of your life?’ she asked, thinking she’d misheard him.

He laughed. ‘I’m getting ahead of myself. How about the rest of the summer?’

‘For the rest of the summer then,’ she agreed, even as she felt her heart beat faster at the thought that what they had might last longer than that.

Blake laughed when Henri held his hand to his heart, as the waiter came to pour them more champagne and his stepfather ordered enough food to feed a small army. Now that she was with him again, it truly felt as if they’d never been parted.

Paris had been great last time, but this time it felt better than great. This time, Paris felt like home, and she had a feeling she might never, ever want to leave.